


Though you do anything, he thinks no ill

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Vignette, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-21
Updated: 2003-09-21
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: An alternate ending to "En Ami."





	Though you do anything, he thinks no ill

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Though you do anything, he thinks no ill

## Though you do anything, he thinks no ill

### by ML

Date: January 20, 2003  
Title: "Though you do anything, he thinks no ill" Author: ML  
Feedback: always welcome at above email addy Distribution: Yes to Ephemeral, Gossamer, but if you haven't archived my stories before, please drop me a line and let me know, and leave headers, etc. attached. I thank you! Spoilers: En Ami, and other eps to be named later (I'll tell you at the end)  
Rating: PG   
Classification: Vignette  
Keywords: MSR, angst. Major angst. Not sallie-safe! Summary: An alternate ending to "En Ami." 

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting. I am using them only for recreational purposes, I mean no infringement, I'm making no money. 

Note: The title comes from Shakespeare's Sonnet LVII. This is for Toniann, thanks for Beyond the Sea! 

* * *

"Though you do anything, he thinks no ill" by ML 

He thinks he's never felt such anger, never in all his life, as he feels in this moment. 

Scully can't even look at him. He feels like Samson, sapped of his strength, pushing futilely against the door frame. He's afraid if he moves his hands, he'll pick something up and throw it, break it, and he won't be able to stop. 

_Does she even realize?_ he thinks as he watches the Gunmen try something else that he knows will be as pointless as the other attempts. 

There's nothing there. There probably never was, and her whole trip was for nothing. She put her life in jeopardy for an empty CD. The only science it holds is the technology that made it. 

He knows she's suffering, too. She wanted so badly to give him something, anything, to hold on to. 

The only thing he really wants to hold onto is Scully, now and forever. 

The Gunmen finally pack up and leave, glancing apologetically at Scully as if the whole thing were their fault. Frohike gives Mulder a wary look, as though he's afraid Mulder blames them, too. 

He doesn't. He blames himself. He recognizes the root of his anger is self-directed. 

Scully stays put after they leave, and Mulder doesn't move, either. She won't look at him. 

Finally, he moves. She flinches, but still doesn't look at him. 

Very slowly, afraid he might scare her away, he sits on the chair facing her. 

The clock ticks. _It's not the end of the world,_ he thinks. _Not yet. She's still here, we're both still here._

"Scully," he finally says gently. His voice feels raw and ragged, as if he's been screaming for hours. In a way he has, but not so anyone could hear. 

She sits a little sideways on the couch, her head turned so that her short hair hides her face from him. 

He clears his throat and tries again. "Thank you," he says, his voice still rough and unfinished sounding. 

This gets Scully's attention. She finally turns toward him, and as he suspected, she's been crying silently for some time. "What?" she asks, her voice the mirror of his. 

How long has she been screaming inside? Since he told her? Or since they've been partnered? 

He rests his arms on his thighs, hunched over in defeat. "I'm not mad at you, Scully," he says to the floor. "I'm afraid for you. This is why I didn't want to tell you." 

"How do you think I would have felt if I found out when it was too late?" she says hotly. "At least I'm trying." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" he nearly shouts. "Do you think I haven't been trying? It's all I've done for months! Just because I didn't tell you doesn't mean I wasn't doing everything I could --" 

"You never would have told me, would you?" she accuses him. "If I hadn't started asking questions --" 

"If you hadn't followed me, you mean," he interrupts. 

"I didn't know what you'd gotten yourself into," she said. "It could have been anything. Skinner couldn't tell me, the Gunmen had no idea. And besides," she adds in a softer tone, one that nearly breaks his heart, "don't you think I would have noticed something sooner or later? Especially now." 

He nods to the floor, raking his hands through his hair, back and forth. "I'm sorry, Scully," he mumbles. "I was selfish, letting this happen. And I guess I thought at first that it would pass..." 

He hears the squeak and sigh of the leather as Scully rises and approaches him. She kneels in front of him, and places her cool hands on his head, kissing him. "I'm so sorry," she says tears thickening her voice again. "I really wanted this for you. I really hoped..." 

"I know you did," he says, looking up at her so she can see the tears swimming in his own eyes. He pulls her up and hugs her close, his forehead against her stomach as her fingers stroke over his hair. _If touches could heal, I'd be cured,_ he thought. _Oh Scully, what am I going to do without you?_

He gathers her closer, and she ends in his lap, arms around his neck and head on his shoulder. He can feel the slow warmth of her tears soaking through his sweater. 

"Hey, Scully," he says. "Remember what I said before? `Never give up on a miracle.' It still applies, you know." 

She moves against his shoulder, but he's not sure if she's agreeing or not. 

"Besides," he says, "I still have a few leads to follow up on. It ain't over till it's over." 

"Anything I should know about?" Scully asks, raising her eyes to his. 

"Let's just say I'm looking into some alternative medicine," he said. "I'll let you know if it pans out. I promise, you'll be the first." He tilts her chin a little and kisses her softly and slowly until she yields entirely to him. 

For a long time, they hold each other together against the gathering dark. 

end. 

* * *

Author's Notes: you've probably already guessed: the other eps are Per Manum and The Gift. I didn't want to give too much away in the headers. The premise here is that Scully knew of Mulder's illness, and wanted to help. I just couldn't think of anything else desperate enough to make her want to go with Spender, honestly. I guess I've been chewing over this for a while. The sonnet was the inspiration, though I started out writing an entirely different fic! Which I may still finish... 

Here's the sonnet in its entirety: 

Sonnet LVII by William Shakespeare 

Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend Nor services to do, till you require:  
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu: Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are, how happy you make those; -- So true a fool is love, that in your will Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. 

Thanks for reading!  
feedback welcome:   
  


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